


Caged Bird

by UnluckiestFridays



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Experimentation, Family, Gen, Human Experimentation, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2020-07-28 06:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckiestFridays/pseuds/UnluckiestFridays
Summary: After a bird watcher accidentally sees Miss Peregrine changing into her bird form, he captures her and experiments on her. The peculiar children rescue their mother and help her heal in the aftermath of her trauma.[Originally posted on Wattpad]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I put a tag for graphic depictions of violence just in case, but really it's not so bad. Nothing too graphic anyway.

Miss Peregrine walked towards the sitting room where some of her wards were. When she got to the door, she pulled out her pocket watch and waited for the smaller hand to tick to the twelve, signalling it was exactly twelve pm.

It reached the twelve only a few seconds later and she re-pocketed her watch, heading into the sitting room to join her wards.

A few of them looked up and greeted her whilst the others were infatuated with a jigsaw puzzle in front of them.

"Children," she said, grabbing their attention. All of them looked up, waiting for her to continue. "I shall be going out for a quick flight. I won't be long, but I want to know I can trust you all to behave and keep out of trouble," she looked at them sternly. The last time she'd gone out, they'd gotten into a large fight over one thing or another. Enoch got up from where he'd been sat with Millard and Olive.

"Where will you be going?" He asked.

Miss Peregrine raised an eyebrow, "just around the island, not too far."

"And who's in charge whilst you're gone?" He then questioned.

"Emma and Jacob, wherever they are," she trailed off, casting her eyes around briefly. Some of the children snickered and looked at each other. Enoch frowned, having already expected Emma and Jake to be in charge, but hoping otherwise.

Miss Peregrine smiled.

"Right, I'll be leaving now. I'll be back soon," she said and swiftly exited the room, leaving the children to get back to their activities. 

* * *

Miss Peregrine left the house, softly closing the door behind her, and headed down the pathway leading to the gate. She opened it and exited the front yard. 

Looking around, she chose a destination where she would change into her bird from- the beach. From where she was she could see it was empty with some birds flying overhead, enjoying the freedom. She couldn't wait to get down there and enjoy her own freedom when she changed into her bird form.

As she made her way to the beach, she pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time once again- five minutes past twelve, it read. That meant she had fifty-five minutes to get to the beach, transform, and fly around the island. It would be enough time to satisfy her increasing desire to change. She hadn't transformed much in her time at the new house, and the need to was only growing with every passing day.

Before Barron had turned up at her doorstep with Jake as his hostage and then trapped her in a cage for his sick experiment, she had barely ever transformed it a falcon- it wasn't very useful, after all. But after being caged and almost used for the immortality project, she realised that being able to change into a bird at will was an extraordinary gift and she shouldn't have taken it for granted. That's why she found herself transforming almost regularly now, it was like an addiction or a need. She basked in the freedom it gave her. 

Miss Peregrine made her way onto the beach, being careful not to fall over in the sand with her heels on. 

When she found a suitable spot to transform and join the other birds in the sky, she cast her eyes around the beach, making sure there was no one else there. Apart from a closed tent a little ways away, there was no one. It might have been a bit risky to change in front of the tent, but as it was closed and held no sign of anyone nearby, she took a deep breath and spread her arms. 

She drew in the feeling of changing, drawing it into her stomach and jumped, allowing her arms to change into wings and her feet to become talons, her mouth and nose to transform into a sharp beak. When she opened her eyes again, piercing yellow eyes replaced soft, yet stern blue ones.

Happily, she let out a loud screech and flew as fast as she could up into the sky, spreading her wings further to slow her down when she was high enough. 

She flew around the island several times, looking around at the people that resembled mere ants from her view. Even with her impeccable sight as a peregrine falcon, they still looked like small black dots. 

As she flew around, she spotted her home in the distance, and she changed her direction, heading straight towards it. She squawked loudly when she was above it, letting her children know she was nearby. When none of her children came running out in a panic, calling her name- a sign something was wrong- she turned around and headed back for the beach.

Unfortunately, when she got there, there was a man stood on the beach, drawing birds. _He must have been the man from the tent_, she surmised. She realised he must have been a bird spotter- like Jake Portman's father- and had heard her call. After all, a peregrine falcon is a rare bird- a Bird of Prey- so, for a bird spotter to hear one, it must have been a big deal.

Deciding to humour him a little, Miss Peregrine flew closer and passed his line of vision. The man immediately stood up, his drawing book falling from his grasp. From the corner of her eye, she saw him scramble to pick it back up. She flew passed him again, watching with her impeccable eyesight as he quickly started drawing a rough sketch of her. If she were in her human form, she might have indulged a laugh at him.

The man sat down, defeated. She must have been going too fast for him. Something in the back of her mind reminded her that peregrine falcons are the world's fastest animals. Taking pity on the poor man that reminded her of Jacob Portman's father, she swooped down and landed on a rock near him, letting out a quiet caw. 

The man looked up from his messy sketch and spotted her sat on the rock. She tilted her head, waiting for his next move. Of course, she wouldn't let him get too close (not after seeing the net behind him), but she would let him draw her. After all, it had been decades since anyone had last photographed or drawn her. She didn't think anyone had ever photographed her bird form, actually, let alone drawn it.

She sat patiently as the man moved a little closer so as to not scare her, and rested his book on his knee, drawing her more firmly now that she was still. The wind ruffled her feathers a bit and she shivered slightly, only now realising it was quite cold. The sun might have been shining brightly, but nothing could stop the wind in Wales. Especially by the sea.

From her position, though she couldn't see his book, she noticed the man move from one page to another fresh one. He quickly looked up and frowned, erasing something when he looked back down. Miss Peregrine cast a quick glance at the sun, using it as her clock seeing as she didn't have her pocket watch with her. She had a little over twenty minutes left before she had to go back to her children and start supper.

Another bird landed near her, curious. It looked between her and the man before tilting its head. It was a mere pigeon so she paid it no mind, not in the mood to pick a fight with another bird. That is, until it started pecking the rock near her talons. She hopped a little to move away, annoyed. It kept pecking the ground. Her patience had run thin with the pigeon so she turned to it and hissed, ruffling her feathers. The pigeon fluttered its wings, alarmed, before quickly taking off when it had gathered its bearings.

With the pesky pigeon now gone, Miss Peregrine looked back to the bird spotter that had been drawing her. He was looking at her, obviously baffled by her behaviour. It wasn't every day a peregrine falcon let off a pigeon unscathed when it had annoyed them, after all. 

Despite the fact that she was a mere bird, the man placed his pencil and eraser down. He picked his book up off his knees and turned it around to face her. On one of the pages was a brilliant drawing of her bird form. For a bird spotter, his art skills were incredible. Her blood ran cold at the other picture he'd drawn, though. It was a drawing of a woman on a beach- specifically her on the beach they were on. It was obvious he'd captured the image of her when she'd first arrived and transformed.

She ruffled her feathers and hissed, not sure what to do. Quickly she spread her wings and prepared to take off. That was when he grabbed the net that was been behind him and swung it forward, its long handle enough to make the net reach her on the rocks. With amazing precision, the net covered her the first try. She flapped her wings frantically to try and gather some room in the net so she could try and escape, but that only proved to tangle the net in her fathers, talons, and beak.

She screeched loudly, hoping one, or some, of the nearby birds might help her, but she knew it was useless. They were about as scared as she was, perhaps more so.

She screeched again, this time louder, as loud as she could. She prayed that her children would hear her, even from the safety of their home. 

Desperate now, she tried to chew the net with her beak or claw her way out, but the mesh was so thick that her claws got caught, and her beak did nothing but tangle the rest of her body when she pulled on it.

The man dove forward, a triumphant smile on his pale face, and grabbed the net. With her in it, he picked it up like it was a bag and started towards his belongings. With his free hand, he picked up his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. With his rucksack collected, he grabbed up his book and hurried towards the small carpark nearby as she struggled in the net, now upside down.

As she tried to get free, she screeched every so often, hoping someone might confront this man and free her. As they neared a car he seemed to be set on (obviously his car), she knew it was useless. Even if there was anyone around to help her, they probably wouldn't. They'd just go on with their lives and mind their own business, ignoring the man carrying around a captured Bird of Prey as if it were some trophy.

The man unlocked the car with a key and opened the boot. Without remorse, he tossed her into a small, square cage that sat in the boot. He quickly closed and locked the cage then shut the boot door.

Miss Peregrine started pecking and clawing at the thin bars of the cage as the man climbed into the driver's seat of the car.

* * *

"What time is it?" Claire asked, sitting at the kitchen table with Olive, Enoch, and Millard. She may chronologically be decades old, but physically and mentally she was still a little girl. A little girl who couldn't tell the time. 

Enoch cast a glance towards the clock and read it. "Almost two pm," he told Claire. The little girl frowned, as did her back mouth. 

"Shouldn't Miss P be back by now?" She asked, "she's been gone for ages." The older children each shared a look. Claire was right. Miss Peregrine had been gone a while and usually, she would be back by now. 

"Don't worry, Claire," Millard said, "she'll be back soon. She might have just gotten caught up."

"She's never gotten caught up before. What if she's hurt?" Claire muttered quietly, hugging Miss Teddy. A stray tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

"Claire, she's fine. She'll be back soon," Millard repeated, but he wasn't so sure. Miss Peregrine was almost an hour late, and the reset was in three hours. 


	2. Chapter 2

Wherever the man was taking Miss Peregrine, it was a bumpy ride. She'd only been in the boot of the car for a mere hour or so and she felt like she would pass out any second. Her head was spinning and she couldn't see straight. Travel sickness mixed with claustrophobia.

Just when she thought she couldn't last another second, the car screeched to a stop. Miss Peregrine almost toppled over from her position at the bottom of the cage when the car lurched.

Miss Peregrine heard the car door open and then slam shut. She tensed and watched the boot door through the bars with her sharp eyes.

It opened only a few seconds later and the light from outside illuminated the dim area Miss Peregrine was in. The man from the beach who had captured her stood in front of her, a proud grin on his face. Miss Peregrine ruffled her feathers and hissed at him, angry.

The man placed his book from earlier on top of the cage she was in and then reached inside the boot, pulling out the cage to carry it. He then placed the cage on the floor and closed to the car door. He used a key to lock it, then pocketed said key.

He picked the cage up again and started heading towards a large, white building with only a few windows that Miss Peregrine hadn't noticed in her anger towards the man.

It seemed they were still in the town she and her wards lived in. She'd seen that same large building sometimes during the times she transformed but had always stayed away from it as it was not only quite far from her home, but it always gave her chills. She wasn't sure why, but she never questioned her instincts.

The man carried her towards the building and stopped when they reached the doors. There were two, but they were both very large as if one large door wasn't enough.

Her captor balanced the cage on the palm of one of his hands as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white card with writing on it. He held it up to a square on the wall which was immediately followed by a beeping noise then a clicking sound. He shoved the card back into his pocket then opened one of the doors.

* * *

Claire looked at the clock in the sitting room. It had been an hour since she last asked what time it was and the clock now looked a little different than before.

She frowned.

The Twins stood either side of her, looking at the clock with her. Like her, they didn't know how to tell the time, but they were also worried about Miss Peregrine. The three children were smart enough to know something was going on. The older children were in the kitchen talking in hushed voices. Sometimes the trio wished they were old enough to be involved in whatever the older children did.

Suddenly, when the Twins and Claire were fixated on the clock after catching it tick, the door to the sitting room opened and in walked Emma, Enoch, Jake, Olive, and Millard. The three looked away from the clock and immediately ran up to the four, Fiona, Bronwyn, and Hugh joining them.

The elder children looked solemn, like they'd had to make a difficult decision or their pet had died.

"What is it?" Fiona asked with worry.

Enoch sighed.

"Claire's right. Something's happened to Miss P," he said.

Tears welled up in Claire's eyes and she looked down. They'd only just started to heal after Blackpool and now their headmistress was in trouble again.

"We're not sure what, but reset is in an hour and a half, and she would never leave it this close," Emma said.

"I think we need to leave and find her. Maybe look around the island first then if we can't find her, we'll have to leave the island," Jacob said.

"I don't want to leave our new home," Hugh said with a sigh.

"Neither do we, but we need to find Miss Peregrine," Millard replied.

"At least it won't get destroyed by a bomb this time," Jacob put in. Some of the children turned to look at him. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Let's just go get Horace and we can leave. We'll have one and a half hour then to get started before the loop closes," Enoch said and exited the sitting room to go and find Horace.

Enoch ran up the stairs of their new house in search of Horace. None of them had seen the prophetic boy all day and he wondered why. He was sure Horace would have been bothering people about their clothes or something, but no. He hadn't.

Enoch entered Horace's bedroom and let his eyes wander around. There was no sign of him. Internally he was panicking. Maybe it wasn't just Miss P that was in trouble. Perhaps it was both of them.

Just as Enoch was about to leave the room and tell the others, a deep intake of breath caught his ears. He stopped and listened. A few seconds later he heard it again. He realised it was coming from behind the door.

Enoch pulled the door closer and took a look behind it. Crouched low behind the door was Horace. He had his hands over his ears and his eyes shut tight against whatever nightmare he was trapped in this time.

Not sure what to do, Enoch hovered awkwardly in front of Horace. Whenever Horace had, had a nightmare in the past, Miss Peregrine had always dealt with it. She seemed to be an expert at it because she could always soothe him then get him back to sleep in minutes.

But now that Miss Peregrine wasn't there... what did he do? And the loop was going to close soon, they couldn't afford to waste time trying to pull Horace out of his nightmare.

It took Enoch a second to decide what to do, but when he had, he left the room and went running back down the stairs to the others.

They all looked up from their conversation to see Enoch in the doorway without Horace.

"Where's Horace?" Millard asked.

"Upstairs. He's trapped in a nightmare," Enoch informed him and the others. "I didn't know what to do." They each looked at each other, feeling as hopeless as Enoch felt.

"I'll try and help him," Olive said and moved past Enoch to head upstairs where Enoch had been. Enoch followed Olive upstairs back to Horace's room where the boy still hid behind the door.

Olive entered the room first and Enoch came in after. The fire gifted girl checked behind the door where Enoch had told her to look and frowned in pity. All of the children knew that Horace's peculiarity could sometimes be a curse rather than a blessing, but none of them could even begin to imagine what he went through and what he saw in his dreams.

The pair carefully kneeled in front of Horace. After a moment's hesitation, Olive reached out and placed a gentle, gloved hand on Horace's shoulder. The boy gasped and flinched away, but Olive didn't take her hand away.

"Horace..." she said quietly, trying to get his attention and let him know she was there. "Horace, it's me, Olive," she then said. Horace slowly stopped shivering and whimpering but he didn't open his eyes and come back from his nightmare world. "You have to come back to us, Horace," Olive said.

After five more minutes of comforting Horace and speaking to him, the boy finally opened his eyes and blinked against the harsh light compared to wherever he'd been. He sniffled and wiped his tears away with his hand.

When he'd completely woken up, he noticed Olive and Enoch in front of him. Quickly, he stood up and smoothed his clothes down as the other two got up as well.

"What happened?" He asked them and picked up the book he'd been reading earlier.

"You were having a nightmare," Enoch said, but without any harsh intentions.

"Oh. Forgive me," Horace replied.

"It's okay, Horace. But we need to go, Miss Peregrine's in trouble," Olive said. After having a nightmare, Olive didn't want to bring more bad news upon him, but they had to go.

Horace paled considerably.

"So it wasn't just a nightmare," he said to himself. Olive and Enoch shared a look.

Noticing the time on a clock Horace had on his stand, Enoch grabbed Olive and Horace's wrists and ran out of the room, and back down the stairs to the others. They had to go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Miss Peregrine's POV;**

I kept absolutely still as the man carried my cage down the dark, damp corridors. There were several doors on the walls either side of us, with a large, what I assumed was, one-way window next to each door.

There was a lot of white and grey in this one corridor, and it was starting to make me nauseous.

Eventually, the man had carried me all the way to the end of the corridor where a single door stood, but this time there wasn't a window next to it. Using the same piece of plastic as he had earlier, he pressed it against another grey square and the door unlocked.

He opened it up and walked through, leading us to a small space with a grey, spiral staircase leading up. Just by looking at the man I could tell he dreaded the journey, and admittedly, so did I. Walking down the white-themed corridor was enough, but having to move up a spiral staircase was hell. Excuse my language.

Without another second's hesitation, the man started heading up the stairs, his polished shoes scuffing on the concrete stairs and echoing throughout the small space.

After climbing three long flights, we arrived at another floor. Floor 1, it read in yellow writing next to the door that the stairs led directly to. The man unlocked the door and walked through.

This one corridor was a lot cleaner than the one on the previous floor. It was obvious it was used a lot more than the other. Though this time, there were fewer doors, which meant the rooms would be a lot bigger.

With a smug smirk on his tan face, lifting his trimmed moustache, the man hurried down the corridor.

We passed four doors before coming up to the one he seemed to be set on. The door was the same as the others but on a metal plaque, it read Mr Smith. The man holding my cage didn't look like a Smith, so to speak, but what did I know? The man straightened his tie, then with a short cough, he knocked on the door.

We waited for less than ten seconds before the door was aggressively thrown open. In the doorway stood a man that was the complete opposite to the one holding my cage. He was a lot older, paler, and had greying hair whilst the one holding the cage didn't.

Whatever the man was about to say was abandoned when he spotted me in the cage. His eyes widened a bit and he pointed at me.

"Is that a peregrine falcon, Joseph?" He questioned.

'Joseph' chuckled, "it's not just any peregrine falcon," he said, and my heart stopped. That's why he brought me here. To show this man, and maybe others, what I can do. Well, if that's what he wants, then I'll just have to make this difficult for him.

"What do you mean?" Mr Smith replied, brows furrowing.

"It can turn into a woman," Joseph replied, to which I screeched and spread my wings, trying to act like any normal peregrine. Mr Smith let out a loud laugh and held his stomach.

"I'm serious!" Joseph cried and shook my cage a bit, causing me to nearly fall over. I squawked in protest. "I saw her change into this bird at the beach! She flew around a bit then let me draw her. I drew both her as a woman and as a bird, and she panicked when I showed her. Look, I'll show you," he broke off and placed the cage on the floor so he could grab his book from on top of it.

He quickly flipped through the pages to find his most recent drawings- the ones of me. Despite the fact that he was about to show Mr Smith the drawings, I couldn't care less. Mr Smith already didn't believe him.

When Joseph found the pages, he turned the book to show Mr Smith the drawings. The latter snorted and took out a cigar, placing it in his mouth to be lit in a moment.

"Isn't that the woman who looks after all those weird kids on the other side of the island?" Mr Smith chuckled, amusement clearly flashing in his eyes.

"Yes, and this is the same woman," Joseph replied, pointing down at me. I hopped around my cage a bit, still trying to pull off the bird act.

"Right," Mr Smith said and lit the cigar with a match, "when this bird turns into a woman, you come back to me, okay?" He finished with an amused smile.

Before Joseph could reply, Mr Smith had stepped back into the room and shut the door on him. Joseph let out a breath and wiped a hand over his face in frustration. He placed his book on top of the cage again then picked up said cage.

"Right," he muttered to himself, "you wanna play that game? Alright."

He stomped down the corridor a bit further until he came up to another door. He pushed the door open with anger and slammed it shut behind him when we were both inside.

It was a large room. In the corner of the room was a small wooden desk littered with paper and drawings- all of birds. A small window was conveniently next to the desk so whoever sat at the desk had a perfect view of the island. A thin, white net hung in front of the window for privacy. Maps and diagrams of all kinds of birds were stuck to the wall using tape and staples.

In another corner of a room was a surgical trolley. A silver, metal tray sat on it with scalpels, scissors, pliers, etc. The smell of antibacterial wash was strong and my sharp eyes were drawn to a small, rusty sink in the corner with a sign above that said Remember to wash your hands.

In the centre of the room, the most striking thing was what looked to be an operating table. It was white and torn a little at the corners. On either side of the table, and at the bottom and top, brown straps lay idly. I could see a thin layer of dust on the leather straps, proof the table hadn't been used in a long time.

Despite the fact that the room was extremely big, I felt like I was suffocating just looking at the room. The smell mixed with the sight of all the surgical tools and the table made me nauseous.

"Alright then," Joseph huffed and placed the cage on top of the operation table.

He walked over to the sink and picked up a box from the side next to it, pulling out a pair of blue latex gloves. After placing the box back down, he pulled on the gloves, letting them snap afterwards just to mock me. With the gloves now on, he slowly made his way back over to me.

He stopped in front of the cage and eyed me up and down.

"Okay," he finally said after a while of staring at me, "I know what I saw."

I started cleaning my feathers, trying to ignore him. If I could focus on the calamity of cleaning my feathers, maybe I could ignore the barely concealed anger in his voice and the smell of antibacterial wash.

"And Mr Smith is right, you are the woman that cares for all those weird little kids. Maybe I should go and get them? Bring them to see their carer trapped in this little cage," he trailed off, pretending to consider it. He didn't need to, he already had my attention.

I wasn't sure how he'd be able to bring all twelve of them here, but he'd captured me- their protector- so I'm sure he'd manage. He might even get some help from whoever else was in this dreadful building.

Joseph chuckled.

"I see I've got your attention," he murmured, tapping his fingers repetitively on the table. "Now," he stood up straight, "I'm going to let you out of this cage and I want you to change back into yourself. Got it?"

I wanted to ignore him or say no, but the threat against my children that lingered hauntingly above my head had me reluctantly nodding in confirmation. With a sickening grin, Joseph reached for the lock on the cage and slid it across, unlocking the door. The door swung open with a slight creek and, after a moment's hesitation, I flew out.


End file.
